


Dirt on His Shovel

by Kou (Rietto)



Series: Yuri on Ice study [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: GPF 2016 banquet, Gen, M/M, Shovel Talk, if he hasn't he'll make it himself, phichit has dirt on everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-09-11 17:15:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8999713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rietto/pseuds/Kou
Summary: Victor learned how scary his fiance's best friend could be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Related to
> 
>  
> 
> [To Keep Yuuri on Ice](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8973874)

“Hey, Victor.”

Phichit called with his usual smile on his face, eyes focused on his phone and fingers tapping the screen loudly. Victor responded with a raise of his hand, holding a flute of champagne. Phichit was on the process of updating his Instagram, Victor noticed. Once every few seconds he’d glance up and look for Yuuri, smiling a tad bit wider whenever he saw his best friend having the time of his life for once.

Though his sobriety was questionable at best. He’d unbutton his first button and his tie was nowhere to be seen. At that moment, he was slow dancing with Yuri. The Russian Fairy was frowning, and he might say later that it’s just the lightning, but his cheeks were almost red.

Also, despite Victor deciding that Yuuri definitely had masochistic traits, he also had shown signs of being a sadist if his serene smile was any indication. That strong hands, which strength had been proven from last year display of poledancing, were so tight on Yuri’s waist that the suit he’s wearing crumpled. Ah, Yuri had refused him.

So adorable. The Japanese word would be ‘tsundere’, Victor thought.

“You better not fuck this up.”

Phichit said casually out of the blue. Victor nearly choked on his champagne before turning to the young Thai man. He was currently applying effects on one of the pictures he’d taken.

“… uh…”

“You’re a terrible coach, you know.”

He said while turning around until his phone’s camera was pointed at the still reigning World champion. Smile was still wide. But Victor noticed that smile. That smile was similar to the ones he showed Yuuri whenever he’s angry.

“Making Yuuri cry like that on Cup of China, and making him a mess in the Final. I’d say for leaving him in Russia Cup too, but Yuuri would probably be even more messed up if you hadn’t left. Vicchan’s death was a big blow for him.”

Victor gulped. He wondered if Phichit’s threat was real, that he had ties to the Italian and Chinese mobsters. For some reason, the petite man almost eight year his junior scared him shitless. If he somehow knew how to summon the Spanish Inquisition, Victor didn’t think he’d find it odd at all.

He wanted to say that it’s not his fault in final, that Yuuri messed him up first, but Phichit probably knew that the reason of the fight was because Victor couldn’t accept Yuuri’s decision about Yuuri’s own career. He didn’t respect him. He wouldn’t be surprised if Phichit had photographic evidence of him crying out and hands up like he’s punching the sky, his lips forming a very wide smile while on the background was the large announcement screen with Yuri, Lilia and Yakov on it.

“But, I see you’re a good influence for him! Power of love or whatever, mastering two quads in eight months is impressive. Five years and Ciao Ciao only managed to teach us one. Also, he could never calm Yuuri down. You’re not perfect, but at least you have the half-mind to ask for help when you’re stuck after the failure in Cup of China.”

“I must admit, eight months isn’t enough to know everything about Yuuri.”

“Oh yeah. Definitely. Took me two years until I even know he had a dog and few more months until Yuuri could introduce me as his friend to his college mates when I was still in highschool. So red and scared looking too, like he’s afraid he’d offended me. You managed to get him to propose in just eight months is Christmas miracle.”

The sound of camera shutter resounded, and Phichit flashed his pearly white teeth. Victor’s golden ring suddenly felt like it weighs a ton.

“Then again, he’d admired you since he’s like… ten, maybe? Maybe before that. You ARE a legend. Quite a handicap.”

“Thank you...”

“I wonder if it clouded Yuuri’s judgement though.”

Suddenly the music turned into techno. One part of Victor wondered who requested that and what dance Yuuri was doing then, but most part of him couldn’t tear his eyes away from Phichit and his casual looking smile and his fingers tapping his phonescreen.

“Yuuri is strong, but delicate. He can get back up everytime, but it’s easy to topple him down. And this season, everytime he’s shaken, it’s always because of you in some way.”

“… I won’t mess up again.”

“Hmm… I wonder. You might be safe this season, but how about the next? You don’t really want to return to competitive skating, right? Probably plan to just stay a season, just to indulge Yuuri, and maybe end it with a selfie wearing all your gold medals hashtag I’m too old for this? Live out the rest of your life as Yuuri’s coach until he retires and maybe as freelance choreographer on the side?”

The tapping was loud despite the music.

Victor absentmindedly wondered if Phichit’s addiction to taking pictures was because he had future vision and liked seeing photographic evidence that he’s always right.

“Well, not that I care about it.”

Phichit’s phone beeped PING as the photo was uploaded, and his smile got a tad bit wider before he put the phone in his suit pocket with a cheerful hum.

“Yuuri is the one who matters to me, not you. You’re not the one who shared everything with me when I’m alone in foreign land, helped me hide my hamsters from the dorm lady and learned how to speak Thai when he found out I got homesick.”

The smile disappeared, and when he realized it Phichit’s face was already inches away from his. The younger man’s hand was on Victor’s tie, he’d pulled it down just like Yuuri had in Rostelecom Cup. But, unlike Yuuri who did it to whisper sweet seductive words to his ears, Phichit did it so that Victor’s eyes could meet his on the same level.

Blue met black, like void which threatened to swallow him whole. Victor didn’t think he’d ever felt more scared for his life than at that time. He couldn’t breathe, and he didn’t think it’s because the tie-pulling had choked him. His back ached from having to bent so suddenly.

“If next season Yuuri come to me worried because of you not taking your competitions seriously, or about anything at all, then the advice I’ll give him won’t be to trust you on your decisions. It’ll be the right way to throw his skate so that the blade will be properly lodged in your balding spot. Remember that, Nikiforov.”

Victor swallowed the lump that’d formed in his throat and nodded dumbly. Phichit’s smile returned and he let the expensive Ralph Lauren tie go.

“ピチットく~ん！写真をアップのはあとでいいから、一緒に踊ろう！”

Yuuri suddenly yelled from across the room in Japanese, Victor’s still limited vocabulary was enough to supply him the knowledge that Yuuri just asked Phichit for a dance. He was definitely drunk, Yuuri could barely speak other languages when he’s drunk, and his face was red and glasses was askew. His suit jacket was already gone, and his vest was already unbuttoned. He was smiling wide so adorably, the kind which would make anyone want to protect him, one hand waved above his head. The Russian Yuri was behind him, one hand on the wall and he was catching his breath. He seemed disheveled and Victor wondered if they had breakdance rematch. Otabek Altin was in similar state next to him, a rare smile gracing his face. Sara Crispino and Mila Babicheva was having the time of their lives, judging from how happy they looked as they compare photos.

“ああ！今行く。”

Phichit agreed, loosening his tie as he replied in Japanese. He winked and stuck out his tongue at Victor before running to join Yuuri in his drunken shenanigan. Victor could only watch in awe.

Victor yelped when his phone suddenly rang, and it was Chris.

> **christophe-gc** Phichit made me do it
> 
> **christophe-gc** he has dirt on me

He stared in disbelief at the photo Chris sent him next. Of him bending down to meet Phichit’s face, suggestive of him about to kiss the Thai man. How in truth he was pulled by the tie was not visible in the photo. The message was clear.

> **v-nikiforov** remind me to never cross that boy

Victor then downed the rest of his champagne.

Realizing that Yuuri was loved by many, and judging from the first two shovel talk Victor got, he figured he’d need to renew his life insurance before returning to Japan.

Downing another flute of champagne, he made a mental note to prepare a will too just in case.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri needs people to give him shovel talk too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Related to 
> 
>  
> 
> [Philia](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9066325/chapters/20619694)

They danced together, two bestfriends in a Banquet. Wide smiles adorning their faces, seemingly in their own little world.

“ _大好きだよ_ , Yuuri.”

Phichit said, and Yuuri laughed.

“Yeah. I know, Phichit-kun. ผมชอบคุณมาก ครับ.”

It’s so easy to say, love. Easier when there’s no burden. When it’s nothing constricting like romance. No judgement. They love each other like brothers, and that’s easier to admit. Easier to embrace. They’ve admitted to it since so long ago it’s harder for them to believe that there was a time before they knew each other.

It felt like they grew up together, and they did. The short five years they spent together felt like a lifetime and more.

And soon, Yuuri would embrace another.

Would admit that he loves another even more than he loves Phichit. More than his brother.

Phichit drew a shaky breath, his smile faltering.

“ _大好きだよ_ , Yuuri.”

He repeated.

It’s painful. No wonder Mari-nee decided to hit the bar.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married. To Victor Nikiforov, no less. I feel betrayed.”

Yuuri laughed at that. He knew how much Phichit hated Victor. Well, not really. But a bit. It’s hard to not hate the person who’d been taking your brother’s attention at all time, even before they really knew each other.

Phichit had no regret helping them get together, but sometimes there’s melancholy from being left behind, yet again, and Phichit hated that feeling.

“Sorry, not sorry,” Yuuri said, but his ears and face were obviously turning pinkish.

Phichit let out a mock sigh.

“I guess it’s time for that then.”

“That?”

“You know. Shovel talk. Staple condiment in this kind of time, you can say.”

“I thought you’ve already done that to Victor. He’s still eye-ing you, you know.”

“Yeah, now it’s your turn. Gotta do it before Chris, he’s the next in line to threaten you. There’s also Mila, and Georgi is already fidgeting back in Russia. I have it on camera. Also Yakov, I think. Aah, horrible as he is, Victor is really a good guy, isn’t he?”

“Now you believe me?”

“I’ve always believed you. That is the annoying part.”

Phichit dipped Yuuri, and the older guy laughed again. So freely and happily, silver medal glinting in the light. Everyone clapped around them. Mila Babicheva squealed the loudest, only to be contested by Sara Crispino.

“Not Yurio?”

“No, Yurio will only talk to Victor about you I think. You’re right, he is cute.”

 “He is.”

“Despite his EX, he is.”

Phichit helped him stood up again, and bowed to each other before proceeding to start another dance, not really paying attention to the music Otabek Altin played and the dance Yuri Plisetsky danced as if in retaliation. People cheered for the gold medalist, and he was so extra that it gave Phichit the illusion of privacy.

It wasn’t particularly slow, and yet they stick to holding each other, gazing into each other. Slowly steering towards one corner and continued dancing together just because.

Like old times.

It’s barely a year, and yet it felt like ages ago already.

“… I said I’ll always be on your side, Yuuri.”

“Yeah.”

God, it hurt. Yuuri’s eyes were chocolate brown, so warm and welcoming and Phichit always found himself yearning to them. Still, he found it very difficult to gaze into them at that moment, even though it’s important time when eye-contact was crucial.

 “I don’t think I can though. I like saying it, I like to believe I am, but… literally, I’m not. I won’t be. You’re always one step ahead of me. Damn our age difference. Damn your happy ending with the nice hot Russian.”

It managed to crack a smile on Yuuri’s face. Beautiful, shy and exasperated, the smile Phichit had come to miss so much. He knew that Yuuri was thinking something dry and sarcastic, and what he’d give to hear what he had in mind. Yuuri rarely voiced them.

After this, he wouldn’t see that smile again, probably not for a long while. And another would see it. Victor and the whole Russian team would see it everyday and take it for granted.

Probably even Yuuri’s sarcasm too.

“… yeah.”

He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat before continuing.

“But Yuuri, I’ll never stop trying, you know that, right?”

Yuuri blinked and few drops of tears flowed down his cheeks before he nodded, as if it’s as painful for him too.

“Hm.”

“Still, Victor will be the one on your side from now on. Always. You know that, right? And he’s a nice guy, you know that. He’ll make you so very happy. He has been, right?”

Yuuri nodded again.

“Tell him everything, Yuuri. Ask him, and he’ll give you the world. You know he will. He won’t ever stop being that way. He’s an idiot in love, see? That’s why…”

Phichit tightened his grip on Yuuri’s hip and arm. Yuuri let out a choked sound of surprise but didn’t fight, lips trembling and chocolate eyes sparkling clearly under the chandelier. There was static in Phichit’s ears.

“That’s why, if I even get a wind of how you cause hell due to some sort of sick miscommunication or your anxiety causing you to become sickeningly selfish again… I’ll book the first flight to Russia and kick you with my skates on myself. I’ll race Yurio to it. I have my sources. I have bonded with the Russians. I’ll know, Yuuri.”

Phichit knew that Yuuri’s brand of hell would hurt Victor. There’s no need to threaten Yuuri to not to. Besides, a lot others would probably put it to words better. Like Chris or Mila or Yakov. Phichit honestly couldn’t. He barely knew Victor.

Yuuri stared at him, but smiled after what felt like hours. Exasperated and Phichit loosened his grip, smile tugging his lips also.

“… you will.”

“Bet on it.”

“Without a doubt.”

Their voices cracked and they laughed together. Yuuri twirled him, held his stomach as Phichit leaned to his chest, and they bowed again after they parted as the music ended.

The night was still young.

“May I have the next dance?”

Chris asked. Phichit didn’t know how long he’d been nearby, or if he’d been listening. He eyed Phichit and Yuuri with kind and amused eyes, just like always.

“… your turn for shovel talk?”

“That’s right,” he answered with a wink, and Yuuri laughed in exasperation. Phichit joined him, patted both of his friends’ shoulders before announcing that he’d be nearby drinking if they need him.

And Phichit let go.


End file.
